


Cramped

by Bellakitse



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 19:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellakitse/pseuds/Bellakitse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jarvis has had enough of Steve and Tony’s drama.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cramped

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Cramped](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9770240) by [CloOm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloOm/pseuds/CloOm)



“This is your fault, you know.”

“My fault!” Steve Rogers growls at the statement while trying to turn, his elbow connecting with the wall he was pressed against for his troubles. He actually growls, he never growls, he’s an even-tempered man, a superhero, a  _soldier_ , he has excellent control and yet here he was losing said control spectacularly at the accusation that his current predicament was his fault.

It wasn’t.

If it was anyone’s fault that he was presently trapped in a tiny, cramped, metal space with the most annoying man he’d ever met, it was said man’s fault.

“Stark, your A.I. locked us in this-this box for whatever reason.  _Your_ A.I. If it’s anyone’s fault it’s yours, you made Jarvis and the other robots, who are all in cahoots!”

“Three things, Rogers,” Tony starts in that superior -I’m smarter than everyone especially you- voice of his. Steve hates that voice. He hates that it reminds him of Howard, he hates that it makes him miss his friend, his past, but most of all he hates that it sends a tingling sensation up his spine when he hears it, something that never happened with Stark Sr. “One, it’s not a metal box, it’s a metal room-”

“It’s microscopic Stark,” Steve interjects rudely, grinning childishly when Tony huffs. The man brings out the worse in Steve but he can’t bring himself to care.  

“The  _room_ ,” Tony continues in a louder voice shooting him a look. “Leads to a lower secured level of the tower, the wall behind you is actually a knob-less door that opens at voice command.”

“Your voice?”

“Of course.” Tony rolls his eyes.

“Then why isn’t it opening? You’ve been talking nonstop since your robots lured us here, blaming me, why isn’t it reacting to your voice?” Steve questions, a grin threatening to break out when he makes out the coloring that was starting to rise from Tony’s neck to his cheeks. The lighting wasn’t great in the small box… _room_ , being able to see Tony blush was surprising, especially so, when he was sure the man didn’t have a clue how to feel embarrassment or shame. It was actually endearing witnessing it now, alluring even.  _Shit_. Not the thing to thing about when they we’re locked away in a tiny space, all but pressed against each other. “I’m sorry what’s that?”

Tony rolls his eyes again. He did that a lot. “I  _said_  Jarvis is overriding my command.”

“A-ha!” he exclaims, trying to point at Tony victoriously, his elbow connecting with the wall yet again, this time much harder, painfully harder. “Ow,” he mutters, he can’t rub his elbow the way he would like with Tony’s body in front of his blocking the space to use his spare hand.

“You okay?” The question comes with contact, while he can’t rub his elbow, Tony can and does. Steve has noticed that about the man, he’s tactical without ever asking for permission, touches who and what he pleases like a small child who has yet learned about respecting personal space. Cold and pleasantly rough fingers rub at his skin, leaving him quite warm despite the fact that Tony’s hands are actually colder than he first realized.

“It’s the reactor, I don’t get as much blood to my extremities, I have cold feet too,” Tony murmurs as he continues to touch him.

Steve adds mind reader to the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist list.

“It also makes them tingle if I don’t move them,” Tony shares finally looking up at him with a slight smile, his fingers leaving his skin slowly. It’s a caress, pure and simple.

“Oh,” he says dumbly, because honestly he has nothing to add to that, the comment opens up the discussion that Tony has a piece of hardware that is keeping him alive in his chest. It’s something Steve doesn’t like to think about, it has a tendency to remind him of Loki, alien armies and how they almost lost Tony, and besides Tony’s hands on his skin has left him short of a few working brain cells at the moment. “Okay.”

They both remain silent, staring at each other and it feels like a moment, they have these when they aren’t arguing and they have a way of leaving him confused and antsy. Like he and Tony are always on a verge of…something. Of more but it always gets ruined.

“Why is Jarvis overriding your command?” Steve questions. That right there? Him ruining it.

“He’s teaching us to get along.”

“He’s what?” Steve questions in disbelief.

“Jarvis is upset that we fight and is trying to get us to get along by locking us in here,” Tony explains calmly like having his A.I. plot against him using tactics that could be found in a Disney family movie isn’t disturbing at all. To think that of all the movies the team has exposed him to since he thawed out, those have been the ones he’s liked the most till now.

“Tony,” he starts slowly. “He’s just a computer.”

“He’s spirited!” Tony argues.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” a familiar voice overhead rings out. “Captain Rogers I resent the ‘just a computer’ comment.”

“Sorry, Jarvis,” Steve answers, glaring at Tony when he snorts in response.

“Jarvis this is very  _Parent Trap_  of you,” Tony says as he looks up, a cheerful smile on his face. The bastard is actually amused by this.

“I would have switched places with my twin but you haven’t built me one, Sir.”

“Your A.I. is sassing you, Tony.”

Tony shrugs. “Spirited.”

“Tony, stop,” Steve scolds.

“Fine,” Tony sighs petulant. “Jarvis when are you going to let us out? Keep in mind that right now I still have a sense of humor about this, later I might not.”

“Noted, Sir,” the response comes back quickly. “To answer your question, when we feel that progress has been made in yours and Captain Rogers’ relationship.”

“We, Jarvis?”

“Your other robots,” Steve reminds him. “Cahoots, Tony.”

“Really Captain, cahoots?” Jarvis asks mockingly. He’s being mocked by a computer. He should have stayed in the ice.

Tony laughs, the motion pressing him closer to Steve. “That was going to be my third point, thank you Jarvis.”

“What was the second?” Steve questions just as Jarvis says, “you’re welcome.”

“The second was Jarvis’ reason for doing this, he wants us to get along, be besties, and braid each other’s hair.”

“Both you and Captain Rogers’ hair is too short to braid, Sir.”

“Now you want to play dumb Jarvis, really?”

“No, Sir.”

Tony nods. “Okay so I’ll ask again, who’s ‘we’ because I know you don’t just mean Dummy.”

“The team, Sir, felt that you and the Captain releasing the tension between you would be beneficial for all.”

“The team?” Steve questions, his eyes wide, his skin feels hot and he just knows he’s blushing at the thought that the team has taken time to discuss his ‘tension’ with Tony and decided that the best way to solve it was to lock them in a tiny space. He can just imagine what they think they’ll end up doing in here.

“Tell the team, payback is going to suck, Jarvis.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“If we promise to be nicer to each other will you let us out, Jarvis?” Steve questions, earning himself a sour look from Tony.

“I’m afraid, Captain, that I must answer this in the following way, ‘talk is cheap’,” Jarvis answers before cutting out.

“Pepper taught him that,” Tony murmurs quietly. “I’m sure of it.”

“Now what?” He questions desperately, he can’t stay here, with Tony so close.

Tony shrugs nonchalant. “Braid my hair?”

“Tony!” he snaps.

“Hey,” Tony snaps back. “You heard Jarvis, we release our tension and he releases us.”

“What tension?” he protests. This is hell, being locked in a  _box_ , room be dammed, with a man that drives him crazy in more ways than one, this is hell. “I don’t have tension.”

“I have tension,” Tony interrupts him casually. “I have a lot of tension when it comes to you.”

“I-“ he starts and stops at lost for words when Tony take a tiny step forward, up till now he’s only felt Tony’s body brushing his when they breath in, now he has the other man pressed against him. While he knows in a deep dark corner of his mind that he’s been wondering about this, maybe, just maybe even fantasying about this, he’s surprised by how great it feels to have Tony’s body against his.

“What do you say, Steve, should I release the tension I’ve been feeling every time I get near you?”

“Tony,” he all but pants as Tony places is hands on his chest, his fingers digging into the light-weight white t-shirt he has on.

“Should I give into every insane urge I have when it comes to you, let me tell you, they are plenty and very creative, even for me,” Tony smiles wickedly, but beneath the veneer is a layer of vulnerability visible to him and it breaks away at any defenses Steve has had left when it comes to Tony. “Well, Steve? Should I?”

Steve doesn’t bother answering him, instead he gives in and finds himself threading his hand through Tony’s silky black hair, pulling him forward. Sealing his mouth over his, he drinks the groan that escapes the smaller man. Teeth nip at his bottom lip and he hisses as the sensation shoots straight to his groin, he pulls Tony even closer in response, even the tiniest space between them suddenly too much.

Behind Tony the door they had originally come through unlocks.

Neither of them notices.


End file.
